


winning streak

by quentinknockout



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9157279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentinknockout/pseuds/quentinknockout
Summary: Cassian is certain he has been hardened by battle. But somehow, he finds it easy to be gentle when it comes to Bodhi Rook. Soft, gentle, 'everyone lives' AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfhalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfhalls/gifts).



In a past life, Bodhi wished for luck.  
The luck he used to wish for was selfish. The wanton kind needed over a card table. A kiss of the dice, a whispered prayer. . But as it was, luck rarely answered him. His pockets were empty and there were creditors waiting with snarls. 'Rook, you already owe me.'  
Usually, when Bodhi Rook wished for luck, what he ended up with was the taste of blood between his teeth. 

-  
Cassian Andor thinks he’s been coarsened by the fight. Smiles are rare. Kindness does not come easily. But since death for the cause is inevitable, maybe it’s best forgotten.  
But when a ship hovers above the torn beach, offering him and Jyn Erso a lifeline, Cassian sees a second chance. He almost smiled when he staggers inside, seeing Baze huddled against the wall, his arms protectively round a still breathing Chirrut. Death had come for them and yet they all turned their backs. The ship shrieks out of there, undetected, avoiding flame, straight for the stars.  
Bodhi Rook is at the controls. Once they’re safely in the next system, he turns, looks around, exhaustion wrought deep on his face.  
Cassian, for some reason, saves the smile for him.  
-

Everyone sleeps, but Bodhi finds it hard. He wonders when it will be safe to stop running. Maybe he will never stop looking over his shoulder. But he knew what he signed up for.  
If only it was so easy to wash the guilt away.  
He also wishes, selfishly, that he could be more like Jyn. Proud and brave, standing tall. Not anxious and wilting, second guessing his every move.  
Perhaps then, Cassian Andor would smile at him more. 

-  
Overnight, Cassian notices the pilot’s lethargy. He sees the pallor of his face, the near constant flickering of his dark eyes.  
‘Hey,’ he murmurs, softly, and he reaches for Bodhi’s shoulder, gripping him. ‘You need rest. I can take over.’  
Bodhi snaps out of his trance, blinking. There is the hint of a tear in his eyes, something close to delirium. ‘No. I can’t – I need to –‘  
‘Sleep.’ Cassian orders. He hasn’t taken his hand away, and Bodhi feels like skin and bone. Cassian sets the controls to autopilot and guides Bodhi away. He half carries him to a corner of the ship, lies him down, waits til his eyes are closed, til his breathing is heavy. It’s only then that he can settle into the chair, intent on moving them to safety.  
Cassian is certain he has been hardened by battle. But somehow, he finds it easy to be gentle when it comes to Bodhi Rook. 

-  
They part ways, because that’s easier – Jyn prefers to go alone, Chirrut and Baze are together as always. And somehow, though it was both what he wanted and what he didn’t, Bodhi is left with Cassian, on some distant planet, trying to decide what next.  
They find themselves a drink, first point of order. Cassian thinks his best bet might be stealing a ride somewhere, going by a different name. When he suggests the same for Bodhi, Bodhi blurts a response.  
‘ I can’t change my name.’  
‘Why?’ Cassian asks..  
‘Because of the guilt.’  
Bodhi is aware Cassian is staring, and the colour floods his cheeks. ‘I need to wear it. The blood… I can’t rinse it off. I’m not brave.. or good.. not like… I’m not like the rest of you.’  
‘Of course you are.’ Cassian sounds angry. ‘Of course you are.’  
His hand snakes across, grasps Bodhi’s wrist. Bodhi flinches, expecting him to twist, expecting pain, but there is none. Cassian’s thumbnail finds the pulse there, presses hard against Bodhi’s flesh.  
‘What is that?’ He whispers, his eyes flashing. ‘From your heart. That’s your courage. You saved many more lives. I promise you.’  
He takes his hand away, throws back his drink like it was nothing, and leaves. Bodhi wishes he could sob.  
It burns where Cassian’s thumb has pressed his wrist. 

\---  
Bodhi is soft where Cassian is worn. Bodhi is quietly strong and when he calls himself a coward, Cassian feels angry. It is only when he is three streets away from the cantina that he realises why.  
When he doubles back, Bodhi is leaving, swaying a little on his heels, and when he stumbles a little Cassian reaches him in an instant.  
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmurs, and straightens Bodhi up, falls into step beside him. ‘I need you to know you’re…’  
And Bodhi stops, and he is looking at Cassian, hard, waiting for him to choose his next word.  
‘Brave.’ Cassian says, finally. ‘You’re brave.’  
And without thinking, he is reaching for Bodhi’s hand, running a thumb over the calluses on his palm, and he is guiding him, against the wall, his other hand brushing the softness of Bodhi’s throat, and Cassian can taste Bodhi’s last drink now because his lips are on his, in the damn street in the dark where anyone passing by can see, but for some reason, Cassian doesn’t mind, he just wants more. But now Bodhi’s hand has found his wrist, feeling the pulse beneath in turn.  
‘I wish I could believe you,’ Bodhi mumurs against Cassian’s neck, and Cassian kisses him again, because if there’s one thing he’ll do before he gets out of here, he’ll try to make Bodhi believe.

\--  
Bodhi Rook doesn’t wish for luck much anymore, especially recently. But he had been wondering to himself, a little, about just how Cassian Andor might feel beneath his fingertips, what the catch of his breath in ecstasy would sound like. But Cassian has careful hands, and he whispers against him, guiding Bodhi in a low, honey-sweet hum as they lie together. His lips return to his, again and again, and he is patient, insistent, counting every sigh he draws from Bodhi as a minor triumph.  
Perhaps, Bodhi thinks, listening to the rhythm of Cassian’s breath as they drift off to sleep, luck is not something he necessarily needs.


End file.
